A small team of men spend their days doing grunt work for the wealthy partners in a prestigious law firm. They don't have the kinds of jobs that require tailored suits; they don't need them to file, copy, and deliver the confidential files that make their way to the building's basement each day. They hate being at the lawyers' beck and call. Then one day someone convinces the men to start reading the documents that pass through their hands.
Jason Spade leaned across the table, over the half-finished Harp's and the untouched onion rings. In the crowded bar, between the blare of the Smithereens on the jukebox and the howl of drunk Irish electricians toasting some dead buddy, there was no need to whisper, but Jason Spade's was the kind of idea that demanded secretive tones. Even if whispers weren't required by the environment, they were called for by the very nature of what he was about to propose.—Fifteen Digits by Nick Santora (Little, Brown / Mulholland Books, 2012; quote is from uncorrected proofs)
"The benefit of being invisible," Jason whispered, looking straight into Mauro's eyes, "is that people don't see you when you're robbing them blind . . . now, how 'bout you and I get rich, Rich?"
And with that simple question, a chain of events began that changed, destroyed, and ended lives. (p. 3)